


funeral suits

by chariiots



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: And More Angst, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, after so many works i still don't know how to tag!, just misery!, there is no actual death!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 15:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chariiots/pseuds/chariiots
Summary: lee jihoon doesn’t really remember what day of the week it is anymore. the way we count time is a social construct anyway, with nothing more than day and night being set in stone. the days blur into one another, body after body after body to handle.by now, seeing a corpse is better than no news at all.





	funeral suits

lee jihoon doesn’t really remember what day of the week it is anymore. the way we count time is a social construct anyway, with nothing more than day and night being set in stone. the days blur into one another, body after body after body to handle. 

yet, each corpse he sees still isn’t him, and with each passing day, jihoon’s starting to lose a bit more hope. the only reason why he’s helping junhui and wonwoo with managing the bodies is so that the moment that soonyoung’s corpse is delivered, he’ll see it. 

by now, seeing a corpse is better than no news at all. 

* * *

the war started not too long ago. maybe it has been half a year, maybe it’s been 3 months. jihoon doesn’t really remember, but the duration doesn’t change the fact that there’s been a war outbreak, citizens against citizens. how could someone be so cruel, to the extent that you’d split a country in half, the border separating families, friends, lovers; to the extent that you’d kill anyone indiscriminately, when they’re from your own country, when they’re people who speak the same language as you, when they’re just  _ people _ . they’re people, and isn’t that reason enough to not hurt others?

everyone’s a victim in this situation. the country’s now on lockdown, so no one can escape. there’s been so many killed that the morgues have run out of room to house the bodies. now, they just chuck all the bodies in a truck and deliver it to pledis high, leaving any volunteers to help clean them up and set everything up for identification. 

it’s how he met junhui and wonwoo. it used to be just the two of them, spending most of the morning hauling and cleaning bodies, and the rest of the day laying them out and tagging them. jihoon would visit pledis every single day. again, and again, and again, praying that soonyoung would show up. he never did, but junhui took pity on him and asked if he’d want to help. 

it takes his mind off of things, at least. if he has to worry about so many other people, he can’t think of soonyoung as much. if his hands are always busy, they won’t miss the feeling of holding soonyoung. yet, his heart still aches by the end of the day, and all junhui and wonwoo can do is comfort him. 

his heart used to sing; he remembers songs that were once theirs. he remembers listening to love songs and thinking of soonyoung because of each and every one of them. he remembers soft jazz playing in the background of their first kiss, remembers watching soonyoung dancing to house, and he tries so hard to carve the memories into his mind in case he forgets. now, his heart sings a song of its own:  _ I’ll wait here, come back to me. come back, come back, come back home. _

* * *

the feeling of a gun in his hands is so foreign. if jihoon was here, he’d never believe that kwon soonyoung would be tied down by accident, somehow becoming a medic even though all he has is basic first aid training and a little bit of knowledge from medical school. apparently, to the soldiers, watching him bandage himself up properly was enough of a reason to ask if he was willing to be a stand-in medic for them since they lacked manpower.

this whole situation is dumb. he should be home eating dinner with his parents and jihoon, not out here trying to patch up bleeding bodies of soldiers. he shouldn’t need to carry around a gun for self defense. he shouldn’t need to literally assist in operations to remove bullets from bodies. he’s only seventeen.

he’s only seventeen, and the cruel reality of war is hitting him across the face. everyone there feels sorry for him, actually. everyone drafted to fight is older than him, and they all know he shouldn’t be here. everyone remembers a time when they were young and free, when they only had to worry about their exams and getting into a good university. it’s a huge burden placed onto his shoulders, but soonyoung will carry it for as long as he has to.

one of the men gave him a notebook as a thank you for saving his life. soonyoung keeps writing letters in it, letters to jihoon that he knows will never be sent to him. but hopefully, he’ll be able to pass it to jihoon after the war ends. hopefully, he’ll be able to meet him again and kiss him, crying about how much he missed him. in his dreams, he gets to sweep jihoon off his feet fairytale style, they get to have another date, they get married and live a full life together. and hopefully, hopefully they can die together, in each other’s arms, or at least die happy. 

in his seventeen-year-old mind, he’s only seventeen. he should be allowed to harbor a little bit of hope.

* * *

 “hoon, aren’t you gonna go home today? you’ve been here for the whole week already. sleeping in the classroom can’t possibly be that comfortable, right?” junhui jokes as if he’s doing any better. jihoon isn’t easy to lie to, though. jun’s eyebags have been getting worse and worse, and he looks pale as a sheet now. he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy hasn’t eaten the whole day, honestly. 

jihoon remembers junhui from dance classes back in middle school. how could he forget? as much as he liked to show off whenever someone asked him to, he also would help everyone learn. he’d take as long as needed to teach a single move, and jihoon respects him for it. he wishes they didn’t have to meet again under such circumstances. 

when they met again for the first time in years, he was still all sunshine and rainbows, smiling softly and trying to comfort him. he knows, he knows how inseparable soonyoung and jihoon used to be. he knows how hard it is on jihoon to not be able to find him at all, and he’s trying his best. it’s not the same kind of comfort as what wonwoo provides, though. 

as much as junhui knows it hurts, he doesn’t understand. he has his whole family safely waiting for him in china, but wonwoo had to identify mingyu’s body, had to see all the bullet wounds and his mutilated body festering in front of his face. as much as wonwoo doesn’t want jihoon to ever see his best friend’s corpse, the rationale is still rather reasonable: it’s better to bury him than let him be buried by militants and never get to see him again.

they’re all trying their best here, all trying to remain optimistic in a bleak world with no future. but there’s nothing left for them, not until the war ends. food will start to run low, civilians will start harming one another to get what they need to survive. soon, the power plants will stop working, and if things get too dire, they might as well be living in a post-apocalyptic world. yet, even with everything else, all jihoon can think about is how much easier it would be to tough everything out with soonyoung by his side.

* * *

back then, things were much simpler. it was sharing sodas and sticky kisses with soonyoung, holding hands and watching fireworks, studying together and sneaking glances at each other. back then, he took everything for granted, thought a lifetime with soonyoung was a given, and now he regrets it. now, he’d do anything to hear soonyoung nag at him again for smoking, to have soonyoung trying to kiss him while he’s doing work.

isn’t he pathetic? jihoon can’t stop listening to all of soonyoung’s voicemails, begging junhui and wonwoo to let him use the cable to charge his phone just so that he can replay them over and over again. an illusion of soonyoung being alive is better than nothing, forcing himself to keep believing that soonyoung’s out there, alive and trying his best to come back to his side.

and when soonyoung comes back, jihoon expects him to return weary, with deep eyebags and a bright smile. he wouldn’t be surprised if he loses his chubby cheeks, or if he comes back wounded. so long as soonyoung returns, anything’s fine with jihoon. so long as soonyoung’s back in his arms, there to comfort him and promise to never leave his side again, jihoon knows that they’ll be fine.

* * *

when soonyoung dreams, he dreams about jihoon. jihoon’s laughter rings in his ears and there he is, smiling right in front of him. when he reaches out to cup his face, he can feel jihoon’s skin under his hands, jihoon’s warmth under his skin. the difference is, when soonyoung wakes up, jihoon isn’t there. he wakes up in tentage, taking deep breaths and trying to ready himself for the new day. a new day brings new casualties. new casualties mean new wounds to patch, and new irreparable wounds mean more deaths.

all he is is a teenager. he can’t pull off miracles, can’t save people like the experienced medics do- all he’s good for is wasting resources. he knows that they would replace him with someone with any sort of experience and skills if they could, but until then, he’ll just have to prove his worth. 

he’s learned a lot on the field from just watching the experienced medics. although a lot of them praise him for being able to learn so quickly, none of them really talk to him outside of that other than medic hong. he willingly listens to everything soonyoung says, from his childhood to jihoon to how he actually wanted to be a nurse. he’s solace in a nightmare, an angel from the heavens when the thing soonyoung needs the most is company and reassurance.

medic hong himself speaks fondly of his past too. he speaks of sunsets in los angeles, talks about how he grew up there ever since he was young, but came to korea on impulse and stayed ever since. even though he’s only a year older than soonyoung, he’s still so much more experienced. he talks about his rotations in hospitals and his wildest experiences in the emergency room, as if it was an adventure. and yet, he always ends with the sweetest smile, with a reminder that soonyoung should work hard in medical school after the war is over. 

“you’ll make a good nurse,” medic hong said a few weeks back. it still sticks with him until now. it’s just so… unexpected. it’s encouraging to have someone as professional as medic hong have trust in him, as if it’s a form of reassurance. a way to tell soonyoung that he’s doing well. that… there’s a bright future waiting ahead of him, one where they’ll be alright.

* * *

“please accept it. i… you three need it more than i do,” the lady says, shoving a box of food into jihoon’s arms. “you’re doing god’s work here.”

“but, all we’re doing is taking care of the bodies,” junhui says with confusion.

“i would not want anyone else to take care of my son. you boys have done a lot for our community. you might not see it but… we all appreciate knowing that our family will be properly put to rest.”

with that, she turns and leaves, leaving the three boys to stare at her shrinking silhouette. perhaps none of them thought of it that way. they’re more used to hysterical mothers crying at them, begging for them to bring their children back to life, or having to keep children in the office because a sight of a dead body is never for a child. 

jihoon always thought their reputation of being the grim reapers was a bad thing. but, the more he thinks about it, the role of the grim reaper is to guide souls from the human realm to the afterworld safely. that’s a good thing, right? is that what people think they’re doing? as long as he’s doing something good, that’s enough. 

wonwoo turns to them, and smiles brightly. “well, we should get back to work. there’s someone waiting at the office for us. we’re doing a good job, i think.” they’re doing  _ something _ , that’s for sure. whether they’re doing well is subjective, but something is better than nothing.

_something is better than nothing_ , jihoon repeats in his head. _doing something is better than nothing._

* * *

“sir, we need more medical supplies,” soonyoung says the moment he enters the section commander’s tent. “the previous battle drained too much of it, and we’re especially low on antiseptics. what do we do?”

commander choi looks up from his plans and stares intently at soonyoung. it must be uncomfortable, having the stress of leading a whole section at his age. rumors say that he’s only one or two years older than soonyoung, but his whole bloodline is full of militants. perhaps to him, this is an honor, but judging from the looks of it, commander choi would rather be anywhere but here. then again, who wouldn’t?

“... then, we’ll have to restock. i’ll try to call for a supply drop, maybe more skilled medics to join us. and… medic kwon, you’re from the city, right?”

“yes, sir.”

“hm, perhaps you were my junior in high school. once the new medics arrive, would you like to go back? you shouldn’t be here since you don’t have proper training, and…” it goes unspoken. commander choi knows that soonyoung wants to be home more than anything, and even if they need the manpower, they should let the kid go home. 

it’s what he always wanted, wasn’t it? a chance to go back and tough everything out with jihoon instead of being out here and a part of the frontlines for the war, a chance to go back to his boyfriend and family. so why is he still reluctant? once actual medics arrive, he won’t be needed here anymore.

soonyoung looks straight at commander choi. his eyes are full of disappointment and sadness, as if just being under so much stress has taken too much of a toll on him. if he could, he would be here for him, but commander choi lets no one near him except for medic hong. there’s not much he can do here, but… everyone here has a form of unsettled business. 

“commander, is there anything you want me to do for you if i go back?”

commander choi looks taken aback, considering that he didn’t expect soonyoung to bother with anything at all. his features eventually soften into a fond smile.

“look for yoon jeonghan, age 18, pledis high student. tell him that i miss him, and let me know if he’s still alive. please… help me look out for him while i can’t.”

* * *

today’s the day the helicopter arrives with people from the frontlines. after incessant begging on junhui’s part, wonwoo finally relented and agreed to go with them to welcome them back. the hospitals will be flooded with casualties, but who they’re looking for goes unspoken among the three boys. they can’t really blame jihoon for holding on to any glimmer of hope, even if they wish he didn’t. less hoping means less heartbreak, but it’s only human.

the helicopters will be flying from the safest part of the military camp to the nearest hospital, and although it’ll take the whole night to reach  _ gidang hospital _ , it’s worth it if it’s for jihoon. apparently, foreign aid will be coming soon, with supply drops and more manpower for the war. after a year of waiting, things are finally looking up. maybe… maybe it’ll all end soon.

some of the staff on shift actually do recognize them as the grim reapers, and let them wait instead of chasing them away. “so… who is it that you’re looking for?” one of the nurses asks. he’s familiar. a choir senior, jihoon thinks, but that’s irrelevant.

wonwoo and junhui immediately look at jihoon. tired, ragged jihoon who’s been doing nothing but wishing on stars for soonyoung’s safety every single night. for jihoon, he doesn’t dare hope for soonyoung to return. he just wants him to be safe, and that’s enough.

“kwon soonyoung,” jihoon says so softly, like a prayer leaving his lips. “if you could… can you check the records for him?”

the nurse looks at him with a mix of sympathy and pity. “of course, hoon. you three should rest first, you all have been working very hard.” the moment the nurse mentions it, jihoon can feel his exhaustion wash over him, finally catching up with him. 

when he wakes up again, kwon soonyoung is sitting in the chair opposite him, dozing off on his chair. is this a dream? “jihoon, you’re awake! i didn’t want to wake you up since you looked like you needed the rest.” warm arms wrap around him, and this is the feeling of home, something he sorely missed all this while. “i missed you. i missed you every single day.”

jihoon hugs him back, clinging on tighter than before. “i missed you too, you idiot. i was so worried about you since no one knew where you were- are you hurt?”

“i’m okay. no injuries, see?” soonyoung says, laughing. “i’m right here, aren’t i? hoonie, please don’t cry, i’m here.”

he didn’t even realize that he was crying, but soonyoung wipes his tears away for him like before, cupping his face in his hands before kissing him gently. he’s here, right in front of him. no more wishing. the kwon soonyoung in front of him is very much real and very much  _ alive. _

“you’re home.”

“i’m home.”

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in my drafts for so long, and it's nice to get back into the swing of writing!! maybe i'll write something from one of the other member's pov or sumn, but i definitely have other works i want to finish first 
> 
> [prompt me!](https://cheriiots.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> social media: [tumblr](https://cheriiots.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/chariiots) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/woozwhy)


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